


The last thing

by artistique



Series: You said you'd grow old with me [1]
Category: The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Reincarnation, War, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:16:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistique/pseuds/artistique
Summary: Achilles and Patroclus keep losing each other only to be found again.





	The last thing

**Author's Note:**

> plz read the tags before reading.  
> sad sad sad sad  
> these are not facts and everything is altered to fit my plot.  
> i hope you enjoy it! x

_Ancient Greece, 1200 B.C.E._

Patroclus was laying on the grass. The soft sound of the waves crashing could be heard in the distance, making Patroclus’s body and mind relax as he was humming with his eyes closed. He felt a body taking a seat next to him, making him smile softly. 

“How is she?” Patroclus asked opening his eyes and propping himself on his elbows to take a better look at Achilles sitting next to him.

Achilles sighed. “She’s well.”

Patroclus noticed that something was clouding his mind. “She still doesn’t approve.” It was more like a statement rather than a question.

Achilles smiled saddly at him. “It doesn’t matter. This is the only thing that I’ll never agree with her.” Patroclus's smile grew wider and Achilles leaned in and kissed him softly on his lips. He smelled like salt and figs they had for dinner.

“Promise me that you’ll never leave me.” Patroclus asked hopeless. The time Thetis was preparing Achilles for, was coming. Patroclus could feel it in his bones and he knew he couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

Achilles took him in his arms, buring his head at Patroclus’s hair. He loved his smell and the sensation of his soft curls tickling his nose. Patroclus took Achilles’s arms that were around his waist and pressed them deeper into his body. He wanted to imprint Achilles’ body into his own and stay like that forever.

*

The time for Troy came and it brought all the disaster. Men and boys Patroclus knew or never met in his life were dying. The atmosphere was full of blood and fire and the first night Patroclus was found by Achilles next to a tree vomiting.

He knew they wouldn’t make it.

Every night Achilles was coming home, Patroclus would craddle him in his arms and when in bed, he was pressing himself to Achilles's body. He wanted to reanct that night at the beach.

He knew that time was ticking away.

*

Achilles was laying stiff on top of Patroclus’s body. The tears had dried in his eyes and his voice was hoarse from all the screaming. He felt like he was the one being dead instead.

He wouldn’t let anyone touch Patroclus’s body and he even attacked Automedon for trying to reason him that Patroclus should be burried with all the honors he deserved. But he wasn’t ready to accept that the person he loved the most was no longer with him. His body was the only thing that remained of Patroclus and he wasn’t ready to give it up.

He wanted to rip Hector apart and that’s what he did. The next morning, he was outside Troy’s walls, roaring like a wild lion for Hector’s head. And he won. Again and again and again.

When the only thing that remained was Patroclus’s ashes, Achilles knew that a part of him had already died. His soul; it was only the body that remained.

So when the arrow pierced him through his chest, his body collapsing on his knees, the only thing that he whispered was, “I’m coming, Patroclus.”

And then, he was gone.

***

_France, 1400 CE_

“You need to be more careful.” Achilles smirked, his breath heavy as he pointed his sword to Patroclus’s neck who was panting laying on the muddy ground.

Achilles let his sword fall and stretched his arm to help Patroclus back onto his feet. “You know I’m not good at swordfighting.” Patroclus whispered, dusting himself off. He knew his father would be mad at him when he showed up in his house with dirty clothes.

“You can be. You just need more practice.” Achilles answered truthfully. 

“Not as good as you.” Patroclus said back. 

Achilles and Patroclus were meeting early in the morning every day training in sword fighting. Their village were getting attacked frequently so knowing how to defend themselves was the only thing they could save them some of their belongings.

Although attacks were a danger, illnesses were as much of a threat. This was the cause of Patroclus’s mothers’ death two years ago. Patroclus remembered how much he had cried and the look on his father’s face when he told him that from now on he had to man up and struggle for his own living. Patroclus’s father was always distant and strict with Patroclus but after his mother’s death he was becoming more violent, coming home late at night stinking of alcohol and vomit. Patroclus was disgusted waking up to the strong smell and his father’s stumbling.

The only sanctuary he had was Achilles. Every morning they would meet into the forest were Achilles would teach him how to hold the sword and fight for himself. Patroclus was not very good at it and he knew that he wouldn’t be much of a help at the next attack, but he enjoyed watching Achilles. He enjoyed the view of his musscles flexing under the sun with every gracious move and how his hair was blowing in the wind.

Then, at night, when his father would be at the tavern, he would sneak out of the house and wait for Achilles at the bank of the river. They would swim and lay on the grass, and when their lips finally touch Patroclus knew this is how it should be forever.

*

Patroclus was feeling weaker every day. Each day it was becoming harder for him to stand up but he always fought and found the power to walk to the forest were Achilles would wait for him. When Achilles would question him, he was faking a smile and saying he was just a bit tired. He wanted to let his last moments to be spent with Achilles.

Until one day it became too much. Patroclus was breathing heavily and he couldn’t even face towards the other way. His father was snoring loudly and that moment he knew no one could help him. He just wished he could tell Achilles one last time that he loved him.

His eyelids were heavy and he felt himself slipping into unconsiousness with one last word in his mouth, “Achilles.”

*

Achilles knew something was wrong when Patroclus didn’t come that morning in the forest. He never, not once, didn’t show up for their practice. So when the sun was already high up in the sky, making him sweat lightly, he decided to head towards Patroclus’s house.

That’s when he saw it. People were gathered around the house and he managed to distinguish a body being wrapped around with a fabric and being dragged outside. He didn’t even realise that he was sqeezing his way through the crowd and searching for the body when he saw the familiar mop of curls picking out.

“Patroclus.” He breathed heavily. He was crouching down touching the body and bringing it closer to him.

“Get away, boy! You will get sick too.” A man barked at him, but Achilles didn’t pay him much attention. His vision already foggy with tears as he was unwrapping Patroclus’ body and touching his face. 

“Patroclus.” He whispered again, frozen with the lifeless body laying in his lap.

Then he felt his body getting pulled away and before he could stop them and ran away from them to catch Patroclus’ body, the body was dumped into the cart and he heard the horse’s feet hitting the ground.

He screamed.

*

Achilles was always laying on his bed ever since Patroclus’ death. His mother would beg him to eat anything but he always refused. He felt numb.

He just wanted to be in the forest with Patroclus again.

So when he heard the horses’s neighing and the screams, he just laid lifeless and waiting. He could see the smoke coming inside the house and he could feel the flames licking his door.

He closed his eyes that were filled with tears.

The last thing he thought was that time in the forest.

***

_Germany, 1940_

“You remember the route I’ve showed you?” Patroclus nodded again with a faint “yes” escaping his cracked lips.

“Please, stay safe.” Achilles whispered one last time putting his helmet on. Patroclus nodded faintly and Achilles could sense the fear in his eyes. He pecked him one last time on the lips before taking off into the night.

Patroclus returned back home, and hid under his covers. His heart was thudding loudly in his chest. Both for the tingling love in his gut and with sickening fear. Being a Jewish in Germany in the time of war, was death sentece.

Patroclus had met Achilles while he was in the town buying milk with the last pennies he had left. He was full on clothed with his uniform and although everyone who was like him would be strattled at the sight, he was feeling fearless. Somehow, the look on his eyes were not as the rest of the soldiers he had met while in town. There wasn’t the hard, cold stare the soldiers already had. His green eyes were rather soft and they lingered a bit longer on Patroclus which made his heart beat faster.

He knew, he had thought.

The next day he was there again. And the day after. And the next one too. Until one day, Achilles approached him and Patroclus tried to keep himself from flitching away when he extended his arm and introduced himself.

They kept meeting each other at midnight. When the patrols were rare and everyone was in their houses. Patroclus didn’t have to reveal anything for himself since Achilles already knew, which made him even more anxious every time they parted.

Every time they met, Patroclus was acting like it was their last one.

*

The next day Patroclus got up with a nauseus feeling in his gut. He was careful all day, watching over his shoulder and becoming paranoid. He felt himself relax when the time to meet Achilles was approaching.

He was waiting at their usual spot, when he heard leaves rustling.

“Achilles?” Patroclus whispered only to be met with two soldiers’ cold stare. His breath was caught in his throat and the last thing he remembered before waking up was someone smacking him hard on the face.

*

The camp was packed and everywhere his eyes landed was met with with fearful eyes and wires.

Later, he would see Achilles’ face making out through the fog and screams.

*

Achilles was late. He had ran as soon as he found out. Ran until his legs felt like jelly. Someone had found out and they had purposedly stalled him on his way to meet Patroclus. He sensed it must have been a trap and he prayed Patroclus would remember the route he had showed him.

Then, he had found out. He didn’t care anymore if they knew about him and Patroclus. He knew his time was running out.

So when, he heard the screams, he collapsed onto his knees with tears.

“Patroclus.” 

The last thing he remembered was the blood in his hand when he clutched his chest and finally collapsed to the floor.

One thing was in his mind, Patroclus’s eyes.

***

_USA, 1960s_

“So, did you have fun over there?” Patroclus nodded towards the dance floor with a sour expression, trying to hide it but Achilles caught it very well.

Achilles took a sip from his drink trying to act cool. “You know it would never compare to the fun we’ll have later.” His eyes were glued to the dancefloor but he knew that Patroclus was probably blushing.

The place was full of people. Boys and girls dancing to the music. Achilles was approached by a girl with a podka dot dress, red lips and perfectly curled hair. He knew she was lingering more, waiting for Achilles to ask her to dance, so Achilles being a gentleman took her hand and led her to the dancefloor.

He knew they had to be careful, so by dancing with other girls he could pretend that he enjoyed their company even though the only thing in his mind was the curly haired boy who was sinking in his seat, watching Achilles intensely as he was dancing with the lady.

Achilles turned to look at him, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “Ready to go?”

Patroclus nodded.

*

“We need to be more careful.” Patroclus whispered, laying his head on Achilles's chest.

Achilles twirled one of Patroclus’s curls around his finger. “I’m tired.” He answered honestly which made Patroclus shift his body to look at him. “I’m tired of hiding.  i just want to let everyone know.”

Patroclus relaxed again. “Unless you want to end up in a psychiatric wand.”

Achilles sighed. They decided to never talk about it.

*

Patroclus could feel that he was being followed. He tried to quicken his pace but he still could feel the steps getting quicker behind him as well. 

“Patroclus Menotiades.” One of the men said as he blocked his pathway. 

Patroclus swallowed hard. He knew.

*

He denied everything, but the twitching in his leg and the trembling in his voice betrayed everything.

The man in front of him stayed calm as he folded his hands in front of him. 

“You can be cured.” His voice sounded reassuring but Patroclus knew everything was a lie. It wasn’t a sickness. “Your friend,” he spat the word friend, “told us everything. He agreed to do as we told him.” He smirked. Patroclus’s heart dropped. No, it couldn’t be. 

He was released a while after with a threat that if he was caught with Achilles again, it would be the last time. 

Patroclus chose to take the other way home.

* 

“I’m sorry.” The man told. Achilles was crying hard, screaming. The nurse showed him the body. 

It was Patroclus. 

Car accident, they said. Achilles knew though.

That night was the last one. 

The neighbors were jolted up from the shot. When someone broke into the apartment after knocking the door down, they found him.

In his hand was a note with the last word written. 

 _Patroclus_.

***

_Present time_

Patroclus was walking fast not paying attention to anyone who was walking nearby. His arms were full of books and his glasses were sliding off his nose, but he had to make it on time. First day at his new school and he was going to be late. Great, he thought.

He was walking down the corridor, struggling to keep everything in his arms from falling off, when his body slammed into something, or more accurately someone, sending his books flying on the floor and him falling on his bum.

He searched for his glasses, desperately when a hand was offered to him. Patroclus looked up to find the most beautiful boy he has ever seen looking at him, with a small smile.

Patroclus grabbed his hand and stood at his feet and the other boy gathered his books and handed them to him, while Patroclus put on his glasses again.

“Thanks.” Patroclus mumbled, blushing lightly.

“No problem.” The boy said and Patroclus was sure this was not a human’s voice but an angel’s. “Achilles.” The boy smiled at him and Patroclus took a few seconds to process that the good-looking boy in front of him was introducing himself to him.

“Patroclus.” 

“Patroclus.” Achilles repeated and Patroclus's heart twitched at the sound of his name coming from his lips.

“Patroclus Menotiades.” A sharp voice boomed through the corridor and Patroclus saw a teacher’s head picking out of the classroom’s door behind Achilles. “If you do us the honor.” She nodded towards the door and Patroclus quickly nodded.

Achilles smiled at him one last time. “See you around, Patroclus.” He said before vanishing down the corridors.

Patroclus took a last glimpse of him before heading the other way towards his classroom.

“Achilles.” He thought. His name rolling out easily, like he knew it.

 _Achilles_.

**Author's Note:**

> any comments? thanks for reading xx


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